


Sowing Seeds

by avalonroses



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Domestic, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:36:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4449560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avalonroses/pseuds/avalonroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur’s getting on in his years and if he and Alfred want to start a family, they’re going to have to get a move on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sowing Seeds

Arthur had never taken any special interest in his birthday, ever since being a child. It wasn’t for any particular reason other than he wasn’t too keen on getting older. With age came wrinkles and aches in places he didn’t even know he had and the inevitable suspicion towards teenagers—because Arthur didn’t recall being quite as dodgy as some of the youths of today in his adolescence.

Regardless of his thoughts on the matter, his birthday came back every year to haunt him like some bloody cursed clock striking the hour.

Despite his mate’s yearly complaints, Arthur insisted on keeping his birthday a quiet affair though that had entailed acquiescing to Alfred’s requests of a mad ‘gift hunt’ through their home and having an obscenely large cake, which, by tradition, Alfred usually ate three-quarters of anyway.

It was on the eve of his thirtieth birthday, as he was blowing out thirty candles—Alfred was a little pedantic about the number of candles corresponding to a person’s age—Arthur realised why this birthday had left him with a bittersweet taste in his mouth, and it wasn’t Alfred’s lovely, home-cooked meal.

He was a thirty year old omega. And though he had been both happily mated and married for four years now, he was without children.

Children had always been a part of the plan. Alfred hadn’t held back in his enthusiasm of wanting a large family when he’d first began courting Arthur, and that had been almost seven years ago, but life had swindled them, there had always been something to prioritise over reproducing—too young, too poor, their careers, moving into new house, saving up to redecorate, travelling… in short, having children had always found its way under the category of ‘things they’ll do next year’ and next year never came.

Alfred, being a healthy, twenty-six year old alpha, wasn’t held to the same time restrictions as Arthur. His fertility wouldn’t diminish with age, he could go along his merry way and still start a family in his fifties or sixties or what have you. Omegas were an entirely different story. Arthur’s fertility had peaked in his early to mid-twenties and every year beyond that point was a gradual slope heading to his last heat, with each birthday it would be increasingly difficult for him to conceive and being a male omega only lowered his chances.

With that in mind, Arthur was assaulted by an antsy sort of panic that constricted inside his heart.

What if they’d left it too late? What if Arthur couldn’t give Alfred the bustling family he dreamed of?

So, Arthur made a birthday wish. Not a silent wish over tendrils of candle smoke but a wish that his mate would hear.

“There’s something else I want for my birthday, Alfred,” he announced in a voice laced with hesitancy, unsure of how the alpha would respond. 

Alfred paused in his wolfish mouthfuls of cake, sending Arthur a grin splotched with chocolate buttercream. Any other time, Arthur would have rolled his eyes with exasperated fondness and called the alpha an idiot. A twenty six year old the man may be, but he was the eternal seven year old at heart.

“Something else? You’re getting greedy in your old age,” Alfred replied with a whistle. “What can I get for you? If it’s a night of mind-blowing sex or another one of these cakes then say no more, I gotcha covered.” Arthur really did roll his eyes when he found himself on the receiving end of a wink. Alfred shovelled another lump of cake into his mouth, cheerfully chewing away. “Hot damn, this cake is good.”

Sucking in a trembling breath, Arthur said, “I want a baby.”

The chewing stopped and the smile flittered away, Alfred’s expression sobering. He always looked older when he was serious, which wasn’t often.

Arthur’s pulse clattered about inside of him, charging him with a sensation of dizziness.

The sensation was quick to dissipate, however, when Alfred’s smile returned with a beaming intensity. He even went so far as to set his beloved plate of cake on the table and scoot closer to Arthur, taking the omega’s hands into his.

“I got you covered with that too,” Alfred breathed, tucking a piece of Arthur’s hair behind his ear.

“You’re sure? You’re ready for a baby?”

“Hella ready,” the alpha answered before snatching a kiss from Arthur’s lips, to which the omega gladly responded in kind, kissing Alfred back with a fever of affection.

-/-

A buzz of anticipation hovered in the air between Alfred and Arthur as the omega’s heat drew closer, both of them impatient with excitement, until, finally, the day arrived when Arthur’s nesting instinct unearthed itself and Alfred arrived home from work to find Arthur sweat-sheened and naked in his nest.

It was exhilarating, the knowledge that they could have created an entire new life, an infusion of each other—a life that could already be growing inside Arthur.

Around two weeks after his heat subsided, Arthur took a pregnancy test. He couldn’t sit still while waiting for the results. It was a tormenting type of restlessness, one with a clean split between hope and admonishing of himself for allowing that hope—the chances of him having conceived right away after using birth control for such a long period of time were miniscule.

He couldn’t look for himself when the three minutes were up, and he requested for Alfred to break the news. In the end, the alpha didn’t have to say anything, Arthur knew the moment Alfred’s eyes landed on the stick what the result was.

Negative.

It was disappointing, yes, but not disheartening. They’d both been aware that it wasn’t going to happen just like that.

Alfred squeezed Arthur into his arms, warming the omega with his words.

“We’ll keep trying.”

Another heat passed with the same result, and another, and another. Four heats and thirty-one candles—a year’s worth of heats and Arthur had remained achingly not pregnant throughout.

Alfred’s optimism didn’t wane, the alpha always managed to lull Arthur into a precarious state of comfort with the promise of trying again. Arthur’s confidence, however, had taken a devastating blow. Whispers of doubt had already begun to infest his mind and he’d spend hours nursing dangerous little thoughts like, perhaps, he had missed his window… perhaps he was barren. And the emptiness of that feeling weighed heavily on him, dragging about inside of him like phantom body.

And if he was barren, what then? Would Alfred leave him? After all, Arthur, as an omega, had failed in his duties as a mate.

It wasn’t until his eldest brother called to declare his partner was expecting did Arthur succumb to tears, wrapping himself up in an old, curry-stained shirt of Alfred’s and sobbing fat tears in front of mindless TV. He was an utter mess when his mate walked through the door, eyes puffy and nose dribbling—not at all attractive.

Like a flick of some sort of primitive switch, Alfred shifted into his protective alpha mode. Arthur didn’t put up a fight when Alfred dove beside him on the sofa and he was pulled on to Alfred’s lap, wrapped into a tight embrace, the alpha uncaring about the wet streaks Arthur left on the freshly dry-cleaned suit.

Once Arthur had worn himself out, tears reduced to undignified sniffles, Alfred loosened his hold to look at the omega, combing his fingers through Arthur’s hair.

“What’s happened, sweetheart?” the alpha asked, soft and slow as if he was speaking to a frightened animal.

“Allistair’s mate is pregnant,” Arthur said, throat thick and raw.

Alfred didn’t need any more of an explanation. “And you’re upset because you’re not?”

“Of course I’m bloody upset; we’ve been trying for over a year!” Arthur barked, getting carried away with the temporary relief his bout of anger brought only to have it dissolve into a stammered sob. It wasn’t right to shout at Alfred, none of this was the alpha’s fault. “It’s just… it’s not fair.”

“Hey,” Alfred said with a gentle smile. “It’s going to happen—”

“You don’t know that!” Arthur interrupted. “What if… what if it doesn’t happen? What if I can’t have a baby? What will you do then?”

Alfred’s brow scrunched. “Artie, what do you think I’ll do?”

The omega ducked his eyes away, fingers plucking at the oversized shirt he was wearing.

“…leave me…,” Arthur muttered, refusing to face Alfred. That was, until the alpha took Arthur’s chin into his hand and turned his head, his eyes meeting Alfred’s bright blues.

“I’m not going to leave you if you can’t have a baby. I’m not going to leave you ever. And I know you know that, don’t you?” It took a few seconds but Arthur nodded, acting not unlike a child being scolded. “Whatever happens, I’m gonna be here. And when you’re next heat comes, we’ll try again and if it doesn’t work we’ll go to a doctor and see what the deal is.”

“But if I can’t—”

“What if I can’t?” Alfred posed, stopping Arthur in his tracks. He hadn’t considered the possibility that it could have been something to do with Alfred. “I know you really wanna have a baby, so do I, but if there is something wrong, it’s not the end of the world. We’ll figure it out, yeah?”

Arthur nodded again, this time with the barest hint of a smile.

“Yeah.”

-/-

Alfred’s arms folded across Arthur’s middle, tugging the omega closer into his body. Arthur relented, just a little, lolling his head against Alfred’s chest even as he continued to stir the stew he was in the process of making.

“Oh god, what are you cooking?”

If Arthur’s mind wasn’t pleasantly murky with the solace of being in mate’s arms, encased in his scent, Arthur may have been tempted to hit Alfred with the spoon in his hand.

“If you don’t want to starve, I suggest you keep quiet,” warned Arthur.

The alpha let out a light chuckle, nuzzling the top of Arthur’s head with his cheek. Then, he stilled, sniffing Arthur’s hair, a sprout of concern forming in Arthur at Alfred’s strange behaviour.

“What is it?” the omega enquired.

“Hmm,” Alfred responded, inhaling again. “You smell different. Only a little.”

Setting the spoon aside, Arthur frowned, rotating around in the alpha’s arms.

“Are you sick?” the American continued.

“No, not at all,” Arthur said with a fleck of displeasure. It had been a week since his last heat and if he had been feeling under the weather, it would have been a positive sign. Morning sickness or repulsions to certain smells or soreness, Arthur would have been happy with any symptom but he was deplorably healthy.

“Huh.” Alfred persisted in snuffling at Arthur, as if trying to discover the route of the scent alteration. “…so weird. Are you sure you’re not feeling down or something?”

“Not particularly.”

“Makes me feel kinda nervous, well—not nervous but… protective.”

“More protective than usual, you mean?” Arthur snorted, that comment alone swiping away his worries about his scent. Alfred’s inclination towards being ridiculously protective wasn’t anything new. “Now, hurry up and sit down, dinner’s nearly ready.”

“Alright, bossy pants,” Alfred said, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

The alpha talked rather excitably between helpings of stew, delving into his predictions pertaining to Arthur’s ‘level of grumpiness’ as an expectant mother, even teasing the omega about the unlikely scenario of Arthur finding himself nauseated by the sight of tea and developing cravings for all of Alfred’s fast food preferences, swearing up and down that it was a ‘very real possibility’. Arthur smiled and nodded for Alfred’s sake, humouring the alpha as he went into a baby name tangent—the man making yet another attempt to win over Arthur with the suggestion of ‘Steve Rogers’.

Arthur couldn’t decide whether Alfred was making an effort to keep their spirits up or if the alpha truly believed that Arthur was capable of conceiving. Either way, Arthur wasn’t going to contradict the man, not when he was still bubbly and eager after all this time, waiting to become a father.

Arthur knew better.

With another unsuccessful heat, it was time to contact fertility doctors—an inevitability that Arthur had dreaded. He knew the outcome of following that path, knew that the doctors would scan their eyes over a clipboard then give Arthur that pinched expression of rehearsed sympathy as they delivered the inescapable news.

Another week elapsed, two weeks since his heat, and though it was a fruitless exercise, he found himself locked inside bathroom while Alfred was at work and rooting in the cabinet for a pregnancy test—the small contraption having become a cutting reminder of his repeated failures.

Finishing his business and placing the test on the sink counter, Arthur left the bathroom in search of something to occupy himself for the three minute wait.

An entire hour dashed by, leaving Arthur no closer to making some semblance of order to Alfred’s extensive DVD collection and the pregnancy test left, forgotten, beside the bathroom sink. It was only once nature called—Arthur had indulged in two cups of tea—did the pregnancy test come to his attention. It was almost a blessing, having neglected it for so long, because Arthur was void of his usual anxiety when his eyes landed on the screen emblazoned with a single word.

Pregnant.

Arthur’s heart spluttered in his chest, his hands freezing under the running water. Hurriedly drying his hands on a towel, Arthur grabbed the test, throat going dry as he realised his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. A fluttery, churning sensation dropped into his stomach as he raided the cabinet for another test—just to make sure.

It was the longest three minutes of his life.

But the most worthwhile.

Because sitting neatly beside each other were two positive pregnancy tests.

There were tears, a smattering of overjoyed whimpers, followed by smiling madly as he pulled his shirt up in the mirror and observed his stomach as if he’d see a visible sign already.

By the time Alfred ambled through the door, weary from a long day, Arthur was bouncing on his feet with the impatience of a child waiting to go on a trip the park. He didn’t give Alfred a chance to say hello.

“I want to show you something,” the omega said, leading Alfred to the bathroom.

“Uh—okay… sure,” Alfred replied, confusion staining his words. “Why are you smiling so much? You’re not going to try and make me read a Jane Austen book again because you know—”

“Alfred, stop being a pillock and look.” Arthur tipped his head towards the pregnancy tests, itchy with anticipation when Alfred peered over and his eyes went wide behind his glasses.

“Really?” he breathed.

“Really—” Arthur gasped as he was tackled into a hug, feet lifted from the floor and wrapped around the alpha’s waist. He felt a flush of warm, consuming love for both his mate and their unborn child fill him right down to his fingertips.

“I told you it would happen.”

Alfred was right in one of his predictions, Arthur’s grouchiness only increased as his bump grew but nothing could thwart his tea-drinking. The smell of coffee, however, sent Arthur’s stomach roiling and, while Alfred wasn’t pleased, Arthur couldn’t have been prouder. Their child had acquired his good tastes, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the USUK Summer Festival.


End file.
